Islam and the Life of the Mind

1. Video (see transcript below)

2. Transcript (from tvo.org/transcript/795846)

Jun 10, 2005

Todd Lawson stands behind a wooden lectern and addresses an unseen audience. He's in his fifties, clean-shaven, with wavy gray hair. He's wearing glasses, a gray pinstripe suit, white shirt, and orange tie.

He says:

One of our outstanding Canadian scholars and philosophers, Charles Taylor, is very highly regarded for his writings in general. But one book in particular is associated with his name, which made a great contribution to contemporary philosophical thought. The book, of course, you all know is entitled The Sources of the Self, right? And thinking about this lecture today and the title of the lecture, which includes the words "heritage of Islam"…

A caption appears on screen. It reads: "Todd Lawson. University of Toronto. Islam and the Life of the Mind. University of Saint Michael's College, University of Toronto. April 30, 2005."

Todd continues:

I would like us to think about how this heritage is communicated to us. Frequently, we think of legacy and heritage as coming from something that is no longer amongst us or has passed away or is dead. But in the case, obviously, of Islam, this is certainly not applicable. Apart from many more obvious ways in which the intellectual and spiritual heritage of Islam comes to us—and you'll be hearing more about this today from the other speakers—one of the ways that it comes to us is through individual Muslims in our society. Because the self of Muslims has been formed by a number of developments over time. It's not always the case that every person is aware of this heritage, but it's nonetheless one of the components of the soul or the mind, and part of the mental furniture and presuppositions of the person.

So this is an idea that I would like you to bear in mind. Another guiding idea for this lecture is to rethink the translation of the word Islam. Everyone knows that it means what in Arabic? Anyone? Islam?

A male voice says: Submission?

Todd says:

Well, that is a very usual way of translating it, and there's some truth to translating it that way. But when we look at the historical development of Islam and the way Islam understands itself, and the way it sees itself coming out of history, emerging out of a period of barbarism and savagery—for which the idea of Islam represents a notional opposite—then Islam quickly acquires the semantic field of another concept, namely enlightenment, right? So it is true that Islam does mean submission. But the way it worked out in history, and in culture, and in time, it also stood for enlightenment, in which both intellectual activity and civilization and its refinement have religious value.

They become—of course, we know that in Islam, there's no such thing as a sacrament, because there is no priesthood to administer sacraments. But nonetheless, there are things that stand, that have sacramental functions or values in the whole sweep of Islamic life and thought and in civilization. And the idea of civilization is one of them. And the idea of intellectual engagement, the deployment of the mind, acquires—particularly after the work of the Islamic philosophers such as Avicenna and Sohrawardi, and the mystic such as Ibn Arabi—the use of the mind and the soul and the spirit also represents a sacramental gesture. It's a way of encountering something of the divine in the world.

On the communal level, it is expressed in civilizational progress, if you like. On the individual level, it's expressed in the use of the intellect and the mind.

So these are the main frames for the remarks that will follow, and we don't have a lot of time. And I would like also to leave a few minutes at the end for comments and questions and answers, but I ask you to please hold those until there's an obvious halt to my discussion. Um, and we'll just proceed.

Well, the mind in Islam is not really located in the skull as such. The Greeks, of course, put the mind in the brain, in the skull, because the skull is the most perfect architectural form and protects the most precious thing, such as the mind. But the mind is not so easily located.

In the Quran, the mind is frequently spoken of as the word we use for heart—the center of the being, or the perceptive ability, the vision, the understanding. The use of the heart, mind, or soul—which is another frequent Quranic term—or spirit, which is another frequent Quranic term, is something that is not only addressed in the Quran, but its constant use and deployment is enjoined by the Quran on the believer.

The believer who is also simultaneously a reader, because of the profound importance that Islam puts on revelation. And revelation in Islam, as you know, is in the form of a scripture, in a book. So there are a few key terms in Arabic that occur throughout the Quran that represent this concern with human cognition, perception, analysis, meditation, and pondering.

I will just mention a couple because we don't have a great deal of time, as I said before.

The first is Tadabbur—the idea to ponder and to think and to meditate, frequently mentioned in the Quran. In Surah 4, verse 82, the Quran says: Do they not consider the Quran with care? Had it been from other than God, they would surely have found therein much discrepancy.

So the focus is on the individual—to think and to come to some kind of conclusion.

Another instance: Surah 23, verse 68: Do they not ponder over the word of God, or has anything new come to them that did not come to their fathers of old?

Finally, for this word, Surah 38, verse 29: Here is a book, which we have sent down unto thee—that is to say, to Muhammad—full of blessings. That they may meditate on its signs, and that men of understanding may receive admonition.

There are many more instances of this particular verb in the Quran. These are three that I've chosen somewhat at random.

Another similar idea is Tadhakkur—to remember, to be reminded, even to know, or to understand, sometimes even to learn.

This is also frequently mentioned in the Quran. For example, in Surah 7, verse 2: A book revealed unto thee—so let there be no straitness in thy breast—that thou mayest warn thereby, and as a reminder unto the believers.

Or in Surah 54, verse 17: And indeed, We have made the Quran easy to remember. But is there any that will remember?

Here, the idea is not just to passively recall something, but to actively engage with the text—to allow it to shape one’s understanding and perception of the world. The implication is that through Tadhakkur, a person aligns themselves with divine wisdom, with reality as it truly is.

Now, both Tadabbur and Tadhakkur are closely linked to another Quranic term, Aql, which is often translated as “intellect” or “reason.” The Quran repeatedly exhorts its audience to use their Aql—to reflect, to analyze, and to comprehend. In fact, one of the most common phrases in the Quran is: Afala ta’qilun?—“Will you not use your reason?”

This rhetorical question appears multiple times, urging people to think deeply about the signs of God in the universe, about history, and about their own existence. It suggests that faith is not meant to be blind, but rather an outcome of deep reflection and understanding.

So what does this tell us about the Islamic view of knowledge and the life of the mind? First, that knowledge is not merely theoretical—it has an existential and moral dimension. To know something is to be transformed by it. It is not enough to accumulate information; true knowledge demands action, responsibility, and ethical engagement.

Second, that the pursuit of knowledge is a sacred endeavor. Seeking understanding is itself a form of worship, because it leads one closer to the truth, and ultimately, closer to God. This is why, throughout Islamic history, we see such a strong emphasis on learning—not just religious learning, but all forms of intellectual and scientific inquiry.

Now, I’d like to take a step back and connect these ideas to the broader historical context. If we look at Islamic civilization during its golden age—roughly from the 8th to the 14th century—we see a remarkable flourishing of intellectual activity. Muslim scholars made groundbreaking contributions in fields such as medicine, mathematics, astronomy, philosophy, and the natural sciences.

What’s important to note is that this intellectual flourishing was not seen as separate from religious thought. Rather, it was deeply integrated. Scholars like Al-Farabi, Avicenna, and Averroes sought to reconcile reason and revelation, drawing on Greek philosophy while remaining committed to Islamic principles. Similarly, mystics like Rumi and Ibn Arabi emphasized that knowledge was not just about the mind, but also about the heart—about spiritual insight and direct experience of the divine.

This integrated approach to knowledge is something that modern societies can still learn from. Today, we often see a divide between the sciences and the humanities, between reason and faith, between empirical knowledge and spiritual wisdom. But in the classical Islamic tradition, these were not seen as opposing forces—they were two sides of the same coin.

So, as we reflect on the heritage of Islam and the life of the mind, I’d like to leave you with this thought: True knowledge is not just about accumulating facts or mastering techniques. It is about cultivating wisdom. It is about seeking understanding in a way that is holistic, ethical, and transformative.

And with that, I’d like to open the floor for questions and discussion.

Episode: Todd Lawson on Islam and the Life of the Mind